


talk's cheap and so’s your mouth

by MistressKat



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Misunderstandings, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: Jayne’s got one hand in Mal’s hair and the other one on his very firm, very round Pi Gu, when the man pulls his mouth away – a gorram tragedy – and gasps: “We can’t.”
Relationships: Jayne Cobb/Malcolm Reynolds
Comments: 11
Kudos: 28





	talk's cheap and so’s your mouth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dishonestdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dishonestdreams/gifts).



> For dishonesdreams' prompt "We can't, I'm your boss!"
> 
> Firefly 'verse phrases, including the Chinese ones, from [Firefly Fandom Wiki Dictionary](https://firefly.fandom.com/wiki/Dictionary)

Jayne’s got one hand in Mal’s hair and the other one on his very firm, very round _Pi Gu_ , when the man pulls his mouth away – a _gorram_ tragedy – and gasps: “We _can’t._ ” 

Jayne’s too distracted by the way Mal’s lips glisten in the dim overhead lights, slick with their shared spit, to really process the words at first. He blinks and reluctantly loosens his grips, letting his hands fall to the side. It’s fine to grope a man’s backside when he’s got his tongue down your throat, probably even _expected_ , but seems a mite rude when he’s determined to interrupt the fun stuff for talkin’. 

“What?” Jayne asks. It’s an effort to drag his gaze up to Mal’s eyes. Not that they ain’t pretty to look at. 

“We can’t do this,” Mal repeats. He takes a step back and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. Distractedly, he runs fingers through his hair, not that it makes him look any _less_ like someone who’s spent the last ten minutes rutting in the cargo bay. “I’m your _boss_ ,” he adds. 

“Yeah,” Jayne agrees, nodding for good measure. That’s clear enough. Even he ain’t stupid enough to cross Mal Reynolds twice. He thought Mal had known that too but… “Yeah you are. I ain’t gonna fight you on that anymore, _Da Yeh_.” 

The address makes Mal’s eyebrows hike right up and yeah, it ain’t typical of Jayne to be using such language. Then again, it’s not a nice feeling, learning Mal still don’t trust him, but Jayne’s got no one but himself to blame there. 

Shame if it’s gonna cost him a chance of a… A _tumble_. Nothing more. Jayne crosses his arms, sets his jaw and ignores the burn of disappointment in his belly. 

“Exactly!” Mal says. “ _This_ ,” he waves a hand at Jayne, “is precisely what I’m talkin’ about!”

Jayne frowns. 

Mal huffs in frustration and then he… He _pushes_ Jayne; a solid two-handed shove right to his chest that makes him rock back hard enough that he has to put a hand out to catch his balance against the nearest storage container.

“See! You’re not fightin’ me! We can’t do this.” 

Jayne gapes. “You… _Want_ me to fight you?” He tilts his head, a slow smirk spreading over his face. Maybe that tumble is within reach still. “Well, a good spar can get the blood flowin’ alright, so if that’s your pleasure captain…” 

“No!” Mal almost shouts. His face is kind of red though, which makes Jayne think that ‘no’ ain’t entirely truthful. “I don’t mean like…” Mal draws a breath, visibly searching for some calm. 

Jayne’s used to having that effect on folk. Usually it don’t bother him none either. 

But now…

“Look, captain,” he tries, “I just ain’t followin’ your reason. One moment we’re havin’ a helluva good time and then you’re set to stop, which… Well, it ain’t my preference, but it ain’t my decision either so…” He shrugs. “You’re gonna have to explain it to me plain.”

Mal’s staring at him with something awful knowing in his eyes that makes Jayne want to run. But he ain’t no coward.

“Ever since I let you back on the crew,” Mal says, his voice soft, “you’ve done everything I say without so much as a scowl.” 

Jayne nods. It’s true enough. 

Mal sighs. “And you’ve done that because I’m your…?” He trails off, looking at Jayne promptingly.

“Because you’re my boss,” Jayne finishes the sentence, choosing Mal’s word from earlier. He knows it’s the right answer but judging by Mal’s expression it’s also the wrong one, somehow. 

“So, if I were to tell you to strip and bend over that case over there, what would you do?” 

Jayne can feel his eyes widen, blood rushing in both directions all at once, his face flushing while somewhere further down things are getting decidedly tighter. “Uhh…” He licks his suddenly dry lips. Mal’s words are crude but his tone is almost… resigned. Still, Jayne can’t lie. “I’d take my clothes off and bend over.” His voice comes out gravelly, his tongue clumsy and slow around the syllables.

Mal’s eyes have gone dark and Jayne thinks maybe… But then the man blinks and there’s nothing but regret on his face. “And _that’s_ why we can’t do this. Because you won’t say ‘no’ to me and I ain’t the kinda man who…” He shakes his head, looking dismayed. 

It takes a moment for the pieces to click together but when they do Jayne feels something awful close to relief wash over him. On the heels of it comes hilarity. 

Jayne cracks up. 

He laughs hard enough that he has to wipe tears from his eyes, and when he finally has himself under control he makes the mistake of looking at Mal’s face, which sets him off again. 

“I’m glad you’re finding the concept of consent so amusing,” Mal says, mouth a tight line and voice tighter still with anger. 

He turns to leave. 

That’s the opposite of what Jayne wants. 

“Wait!” he says, making a grab at Mal’s back and getting a fistful of shirt for his effort. “ _Wait, wait,_ hold on. We ain’t done here.”

Mal freezes and then slowly turns around. “And what if I say we are?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Then I’ll tell you to shut your mouth and listen to me first before makin’ that decision.” Jayne grins, adding a semi-respectful “Captain” just to mess with him. “ _Then_ you can say whatever you want and that goes.” 

Mal looks like he’s picking his way through a minefield where each step could result in a spectacular _kaboom_ but finally he nods. “Alright. Talk.”

“Tell me to bend over again.”

Mal rears back as if slapped. “ _What?_ ”

“Same as you said before. C’mon.” Jayne takes a risk and shoves Mal a little, for emphasis. “I swear I got a point. Just tell me.”

Mal narrows his eyes but says it. “Strip off your clothes and bend over that crate.” It’s flat and emotionless and it still makes Jayne shiver like someone had just raked nails over his back. 

He grins, more than a little feral. “No,” he says, feeling the word drop like a stone between them. “Well, not until we’ve had some more fun kissin’ and gropin’ first. No reason to be hasty about it when we got the time, eh?”

Mal’s staring at him, looking stunned. It’s a good look on him, Jayne thinks. “And then… Well, I’d be more than amenable. But also wouldn’t mind bending _you_ over every gorram box in here. Or sucking you off, slow and proper. Or… Well, truth is _Da Yeh_ ,” and the use of the honorific is deliberate, Jayne does like to drive the point home, sharp and deep, “I don’t expect there’s _anything_ you’d ask – or _order_ – that I wouldn’t want to do. _But!_ ” He raises a hand to halt whatever Mal is about to say. “I can promise that if you do, I’ll tell you to fuck off. Respectfully. Or not, depending on the request.”

Mal’s expression is slack with genuine surprise. Jayne grins again, but the longer the silence stretches, the more forced it starts to feel. He’s just beginning to think maybe a tactical retreat might be the best course of action when Mal finally clears his throat. 

“Well now,” he says. “That was quite a speech you made.” 

Jayne shrugs. “Well, you was being quite a _Buhn Dahn_.” 

Mal snorts. “Fair. But you gotta admit, from where I was standing it was—”

“You gonna find anything better to do with your tongue anytime soon?” Jayne interrupts. “Only, there’s been an awful lot of talkin’ when we could’ve been—” 

Turns out Mal does find something better to do with his tongue. And _Jayne’s._

Which is just as well, Jayne thinks absently as he slides to his knees, Mal’s skin salty and fever hot under his mouth. After all, they’re both better at doin’ than they are at talkin’. 


End file.
